


Favours and Thank-Yous

by feeisamarshmallow



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: Gen, but it's mostly just friendship, maybe a few hints of WeeVer?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-10-26 13:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10787910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feeisamarshmallow/pseuds/feeisamarshmallow
Summary: "The lines that dictated their relationship were blurring and disintegrating by the minute." Missing scene from 2x12 Rashard and Wallace go to White Castle. Weevil calls Veronica for a ride. Originally written 08/13/15.





	Favours and Thank-Yous

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first foray into fanfic back in 2015, and I'm still pretty proud of it. I've been meaning to transfer all of my stories on ff.net to here and finally found the time to do so. I'm not going to change or edit it, even if I want to. The characters are not mine. All credit goes to Rob Thomas and the television network. Hope you enjoy!

Veronica leaned back on her bed, satisfied that she had finished her calculus homework for once, and satisfied she had managed to help Wallace find the white castle witness via Uncle Monty’s borrowed super phone. She was amidst the usual three day period of downtime between cases. Satisfaction— contentment even— was not a common feeling for Veronica. Even tonight, it was easy to let her mind’s endless dialogue ruin her evening. Thoughts of the bus crash, of Meg’s death, of Duncan’s disappearance, and always, of Lilly, threatened to upturn her precarious sense of ease. Each time those thoughts had drifted through her brain, she banished it by attacking her calculus with a renewed fervor. Now, her calculus was finished, and the few minutes she had spent lounging on her bed had given her banished thoughts an opportunity to reappear. 

Veronica stood up with a sudden purpose and walked towards the kitchen. Next to her, Backup rose with a snuff of air and trotted behind her. Veronica reached back to tousle his ears as she walked through the door.

“You coming too, Backup?”

Her father was gone tonight on a stakeout and, although he was only sitting in his car on the opposite side of town, his absence unsettled Veronica. Their apartment was unnervingly quiet with only one human inhabitant and so Veronica filled the silence by talking to Backup. Tomorrow, she would tell her father she had had a good catch up with Backup, that he was a better listener than any human, and by far the sanest member of the Mars household. She had convinced herself that she enjoyed this quality time with canine friend. Like so many other worries in her life, Veronica stopped her brain from entertaining her unease at her father’s absence before she even recognized what she was feeling. 

It was getting late, but Veronica wasn’t tired. She could hear the clock ticking on the wall and beyond that, a dog barking in the complex and the faint sounds of cars speeding down the highway. Veronica blocked out the noises by rustling in the cupboard, coming up with a bowl of cereal.

“You hungry too, boy?” Veronica turned to Backup and tossed a few cornflakes in the air, which Backup promptly snagged midair. Her voice sounded too sharp and loud, so she let the room fall back into silence. Backup had settled peacefully at the base of their couch and promptly fallen asleep, a puddle of drool slowly forming off the end of his chin. Veronica, following Backup’s lead, curled up next to her dog. She slung one arm around Backup’s neck, and used the other to spoon cereal in her mouth from the bowl she had carefully balanced between her knees and her chest. Backup snorted in his sleep and Veronica smiled fondly at him. Sometime later, Veronica fell asleep with her face pressed into Backup’s side, her cereal bowl abandoned next to her.

Veronica’s cell phone startled her from her sleep. She jumped off of Backup, who whined in protest. Disoriented, Veronica pawed for her phone before grabbing it from under the couch.

“Dad?” she guessed. The worries for her father’s safety which she had so successfully quelled spilled into her mind in full force.

She was greeted with a flat and slightly painful sounding laugh.

“Not quite.” 

“Weevil?” Veronica asked, though she was fairly certain her guess was correct. Immediately, her mind was calculating all the possible reasons Weevil would call her at nearly midnight on a Wednesday night. 

“Bingo.” Again, his voice sounded slightly off. 

“I think you’ve got the wrong number. I’m not the usual type of girl you’d call at this time of night.” Veronica remarked. She was now completely alert and ready to decide which angle she would play at in this situation. Her strategy, however, was dependent upon Weevil’s reasons for calling her. 

“V,” Weevil said a little urgently, completely ignoring her former comment. Then he paused. Almost, Veronica thought, in embarrassment, but she couldn’t be too sure. “I kinda need a favour.” 

“Ah, a favour. The foundations upon which our relationship has been built. Shoot,” Veronica replied.

“I need a ride.”

“And here I thought your motorcycle was stapled to your hip.” 

“I’m not shitting you V,” Weevil all but growled. “Can you give me a ride or should I stop wasting my time?”

Surprised by his hostile reaction, all of Veronica’s quips dried up on her tongue. “Yeah, yeah I can. Just give me a minute. Where are you?” 

Weevil groaned. Veronica wondered if he was hurt. 

“The pier past Dog Beach. Next to the abandoned warehouse.” 

Veronica’s eyebrows flew up, not quite in shock, but still incredulous. “The meeting place?”

“How do you know…?” Veronica could almost picture him shaking his head at her. “Yeah, the meeting place.” 

The meeting place was the heart of PCHer operations and the recipient of bi-weekly sheriff visits if Lamb was feeling motivated. Veronica knew she shouldn’t be headed to a shady wharf at midnight, especially with her father out. However, the idea of not going barely flitted through her mind. Instead, Veronica rose from her place on the floor to change out of her pajamas and grab a coat. 

“Keep the house safe, Backup boy?” 

Backup looked up at her sleepily while Veronica checked for the familiar bump of her Taser in her jacket. She locked the door, her mind turning with all the possibilities for Weevil to be stranded at Dog Beach wharf without a ride. 

Veronica knew that Dog Beach Wharf was a fair distance from Weevil’s house. She turned this thought over in her mind as she turned out of her apartment complex parking lot. Reaching the end of the street, she eased her car onto Neptune’s nearly deserted main street.  
“He must have driven there, or at least gotten a ride. Why me? What happened so that he had to call me and not one of his gang buddies?” Veronica mused aloud. 

Neptune in early February surprisingly didn’t draw a huge tourist crowd. The rush from the holidays had subsided and spring break had yet to begin. On a Wednesday night the town seemed eerily bare. Veronica cruised down the strip, then turned towards the beach. Momentarily, her gaze strayed to a side street on the opposite side of the road, where she knew her dad was keeping vigil in his car across from a shady office building. Dog Beach was entirely abandoned. Veronica’s car was the only moving object, save for the palm trees blowing in the wind. 

The entire drive, Veronica’s thoughts were focussed on the possible situations leading to Weevil’s need for a ride. Something about the sight of Dog Beach sparked a memory: An 09er party held on Dog Beach, back at the beginning of junior year. Wallace had held out the invitation to her, and she had surprised him by decoding it. Logan had been with Caitlyn Ford at that point; a foray which Veronica liked to forget about at all costs. A foray which had ended when Logan had discovered Caitlyn was cheating on him with Chardo Navarro. It had ended, Logan had recounted to her one night, in a promise from Weevil that the PCHers would beat up Chardo better than the 09ers could. “He’s out,” Weevil had told Logan. 

Abruptly, it all made sense. The location. The tensions growing between Weevil and the PCHers. The discovery that Felix’s death had mostly likely been at the hands of Thumper. Weevil’s apparent lack of transportation from, but not to, the meeting place. Veronica suddenly had a very clear idea of what had happened to cause Weevil to call her for ride. 

The path that led behind the warehouse was completely dark, except for small pools of harsh light cast by sporadic streetlights. The road was bumpy with loose chunks of concrete and weeds poking through the cracks. Everything seemed completely still, which only heightened Veronica’s senses and her feelings of unease. Veronica came to the end of the driveway and turned, this time onto a path made of concrete, which sloped downward towards the middle, and gave the path a peculiar v-shape. The strange pathway presumably had some sort of dock-loading function that was no longer utilized. Veronica noted the yard appeared empty as she entered the meeting place. The wind had picked up. It was whistling through the metal platforms and rattling the loose loading chains hanging off the side of the adjoining warehouse. 

“Where is he?” Veronica wondered, and at the same moment noticed a form lying awkwardly underneath the swinging chain on the other side of the wharf. Veronica watched as Weevil pushed himself into sitting position. He then shakily pulled himself onto his feet, before falling back to his knees again, holding his side. Veronica sighed and cut her engine, after double checking that there was no one else around. She noted Weevil avoided making eye contact with her as she made her way across the loading dock. 

“I take it your talk didn’t go as planned?” Veronica asked as she reached Weevil, who had now sank back into a sitting position.

“I’m fine,” he said shortly. He grunted as he used the wall to stand up again, this time staying upright. 

“Evidently you’re not because you’re bleeding and can barely stand up, not to mention stranded on Dog Beach Wharf.” 

Veronica was becoming annoyed. She was tired. Tonight was supposed to have been a night off. Half an hour ago, before Weevil had called her, she had been comfortably snoozing on Backup’s shoulder. Veronica was sure Weevil had had his part in this apparent beat down. He didn’t deserve it, she concluded, but he wasn’t innocent either.

“Hey I never said you had to come. I called you for a favour, same as any time you’ve ever called me,” he grimaced as he took a step towards her car. 

Although Weevil had never been her most agreeable ally, Veronica was taken aback by his hostile greeting. He stepped into a pool of light and Veronica noticed he had two nasty, swelling black eyes, and his head was bleeding as were his wrists and his mouth. Some of Veronica’s anger dissipated. She swallowed her next remark and followed Weevil towards her car. 

He was oddly silent as he limped purposefully towards Veronica’s car. Veronica felt she should say something, but her usual style of banter had been abruptly and hostilely shut down. That left genuine concern or inquiry; neither of which had ever had a place in Veronica and Weevil’s friendship. Unsure of what to say, Veronica let the silence stretch out longer and longer between them. She stood by the driver’s side door until Weevil manoeuvered himself slowly into her car, then entered herself, and shut the door. 

It wasn’t until Veronica had turned off the strange, v-shaped concrete path and back onto the dark driveway, Weevil spoke. 

“It was all of them, you know, not just Thumper” he sounded pained and angry, though it seemed to stem from more than just his injuries. “They were all dealing for the Fitzpatricks, all of them.” 

Veronica did know. But she doubted that would offer any consolation.

“I should’ve known, goddamn it! I should’ve fucking known!” he opened his eyes and lunged forward, smacking the dashboard in frustration. He was now talking more to himself than to Veronica. 

Veronica had presently retraced her path all the way back to Dog Beach and faced an intersection. One way led back to her home, and the other to Weevil’s house. Impulsively, although not without reason, Veronica turned left and headed back to her apartment. Weevil turned to look at her, wordlessly acknowledging the fact that Veronica was taking him back to her house. 

“I have a first aid kit,” Veronica offered tentatively in explanation. It wasn’t a joke, or a quip, or a double entendre, or any of the other ways she usually communicated with Weevil. But, it was the closest way she could find to justify her offer. She tensed, awaiting his approval or rejection.

He laughed ruefully, “Yeah I’ll be needing one of those.”

Veronica relaxed. They may not have a place for genuine concern or inquiry in conversation, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t find ways to communicate such things. The conversation in the car lapsed back into silence, but this time it felt much more comfortable. Veronica could still sense Weevil’s anger, but now none of it was directed at her. 

“Don’t bleed all over my car,” Veronica instructed when Weevil went to lay his head back on the seat rest.

“ ‘Cause your car is such a prize.” 

“Once again you were the one who called me for the ride. You ask for favours, you don’t insult the favour-giver.” 

Their playful banter was back, and Veronica was even beginning to enjoy herself. Certainly, she felt the most relaxed she had felt all night. Although her sense of satisfaction was gone, it was replaced with adrenaline stemming from driving through the deserted main strip of Neptune with the beat up and potentially ousted leader of the PCHers. For once, Veronica’s mind was focussed on the task at hand, with only the occasional thought of her father drifting through her mind. 

“Where is your bike anyway?” Veronica asked suddenly. “You didn’t answer me clearly.” 

Weevil quieted. “At the bottom of the ocean by now,” he said, holding her eye contact and daring her to respond.

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, oh.” He looked away. 

Such was their relationship; Never too comfortable for long, but always bound by the exchange of favours, and, somewhere deep down, a sense of caring. The blinker echoed loudly through her car as Veronica turned onto the street where her apartment complex stood. It was a cool, but clear night. A swath of stars was visible in the sky, and a soft wind blew down the street.

“Is the sheriff home?” Weevil finally spoke 

Veronica shook her head, “just me and the canine Mars tonight.”

Weevil nodded, taking in her answer and Veronica’s slightly tense expression. Veronica parked the car. She got out, and watched Weevil struggle to get himself up and out of the car. 

Before she could stop herself she asked, “Can you get up?” She bit her tongue, waiting for his scathing response.

“I’m fine, V.” And then a pause, “I could use a hand though.” Veronica stopped briefly, surprised at his response. Then she walked to the passenger side door, and helped hoist Weevil out of her car. He grimaced, and held his side.

“Let me go in first though,” Veronica turned to Weevil, “or else Backup might attack you.”

“And that would be bad?” he cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Yes, that would be bad.” 

Once they got inside, Weevil and Veronica stood awkwardly in the doorway. All of a sudden, the situation threatened to overwhelm Veronica. It was late, her dad was gone, Weevil was here, and he was bleeding. His bruises made his eyes look even more dark and serious. The lines that dictated their relationship were blurring and disintegrating by the minute.

“So that first aid kit…?” 

“Right the first aid kit. I’ll grab it, or… yeah I’ll get it just a minute. You can sit on the couch,” and then as an afterthought she added, “Don’t bleed on it.” 

Weevil laughed at Veronica’s awkward speech, which quickly turned into a groan. “I’ll just wait with Backup out here.” 

Veronica watched Weevil settle on the couch, and then turn to watch her walk down the hallway. She emerged from the bathroom with the first aid kit box and a wet washcloth. 

“Thanks,” Weevil grabbed them from her. “Damn that hurts,” he muttered as he scrubbed dirt and dried blood off his face. 

Veronica sat awkwardly on the edge of the couch. She no longer had a purpose, and she didn’t know what to do with her hands. She didn’t want to stare directly at Weevil, so instead she alternated between looking for her dad out the window, and focussing on Backup’s head lying on the floor.

“Making you uncomfortable?” 

“No,” Veronica faltered, then finished with, “never”. 

Veronica was looking at him now. She was really close to his face. His eyes were so dark and intense when she made eye contact with them. Veronica suddenly had a ridiculously strong urge to kiss him, which made her jerk backwards. Weevil cocked an eyebrow in response.

“Never,” Veronica reiterated. 

A moment of silence passed between them, which Weevil broke eventually. “Hey V, I think I’m gonna need a mirror for this.” 

Without thinking, Veronica grabbed the cloth from his hand, “let me do it.” He flinched as she cleaned a cut on his forehead. 

“Your dad’s fine, you know.” 

Veronica eyed him warily, “what are you talking about?”

“You. You’re tense. You keep looking out the window. He’s fine.” 

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Weevil just stared at her. His ability to read Veronica was unnerving. “I just like to know he’s okay,” Veronica admitted quietly. 

Weevil nodded once in agreement. “He’s fine.” 

She had barely even admitted to herself that she was worried about her father, and yet Weevil walked in and knew within a couple of minutes. Strangely, Weevil’s reassurance made Veronica feel more at ease. She didn’t like letting her guard down, but something about the evening made Veronica feel okay with looking a little vulnerable. And, to her surprise, sharing her unease had actually made her feel stronger, not weaker.

“Anywhere else?” Veronica asked to change the subject. She held up the now bloodied washcloth. 

“Nah, it’s mostly my ribs, but I can’t do anything about that.” He groaned and laid back on the couch. 

“You probably should have seen a doctor.” 

“I’m fine,” he insisted, considerably less forcefully than before. “I’m out of the PCHers.” 

“I figured,” Veronica said quietly. 

“Those guys were like my brothers.” Weevil’s voice sounded rough and hoarse. 

“I know,” Veronica all but whispered.

“And it was one of them. Thumper. He killed Felix,” he said even quieter. 

“Weevil,” Veronica looked at him, “I’m so sorry.” 

Weevil looked at his lap, absentmindedly holding his side. 

“You want some ice?” 

He nodded. “Hey V?” he caught her eye and looked at her urgently, “thanks.” 

“I owed you the favour,” said Veronica softly, holding eye contact, “thank you.”


End file.
